


Daughters of The Mother

by Gray3



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mage-Templar Dynamics (Dragon Age), Musical Instruments, POV Multiple, Pining, Sibling Rivalry, Singing, Theatre, mutual respect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-01 07:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20254750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray3/pseuds/Gray3
Summary: Magdalene was born and raised in Thedas until she was sixteen years old when she was forced to flee through an Eluvian to escape the Templars hunting her. For 12 years, she lived happily in a land with no magic. What happens when she is suddenly thrust back into the world she swore she would never return to?And what happened to the family that abandoned her?(Slight canon divergence)





	1. I Just Wasn't Made For These Times

The door of the metal trailer was thrown open, crashing against the side of the rickety structure. The loud sound made Maggie cringe, but her muscles were too sore and tender to care about being gentle. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room as she flopped down on the small, lumpy couch that doubled as her bed.

Her living quarters was a very narrow camper. It had a small kitchenette that had no running water, a booth with a table that she was using as a closet and a workspace, and the living area that also functioned as her bedroom. The bathroom was outside which she shared with about fifty other people. The trailer was so small that her meager possessions barely all fit inside, but she lived rent-free. A ‘perk’ of her job.

Maggie stood, stretching her weary muscles and walked to the end of her trailer. Her mirror leaned against the wall, so tall it scraped against the ceiling and took up a lot of precious space in her trailer, but it was the mirror was the last reminder of her former life. Now, she mostly used it to get ready for her job.

Her stage make-up was smeared with sweat and one of her false eyelashes was hanging lopsidedly so it looked like her eye was crooked. She had to smile at the state she was in; as much as she hated her job, it was more fun and better pay than waitressing. She worked at a circus Most nights, she danced on the hire wire and swung from the trapeze, but tonight, a cast member called in sick and she had to fill in their spot with the horses, vaulting. It was fun, but it required a lot of stamina and trust in the horse.

With trouble, she unzipped her purple, sparkly bodysuit and peeled her sweaty body out of it, wearing only a sports bra and compression shorts. The air of the trailer was too hot to be a comfort because the power stopped working earlier in the week. Her employers were supposed to fix it, but they kept putting it off. Maggie could easily take care of the problem, but she was planning to quit her job in two weeks when she finally graduated. She didn’t want to make the place nice, just to leave it.

_Two weeks_, she thought to herself, looking at the mess of make-up hastily applied on her face, _two weeks and I’ll never have to perform again_. The thought comforted her, but also scared her. She had performed her entire life, but it was time to take control of her destiny. Not just follow the path her father put her on.

In two weeks, she would have her degree in finance. It was not an exciting degree. Maggie could have easily majored in some type of art and excelled. On the day she signed up for classes, she asked her advisor what the most steady and reliable degree she could get was and finance was the answer. She didn’t particularly enjoy it, but all that Maggie wanted was a normal, _steady _life.

She wanted to get a job where she didn’t have to wear a bodysuit. She wanted to work nine to five, maybe find a husband along the way, and settle down. She wanted to have each day predictable and slow. But most of all, she never wanted to return to the land of her birth.

Maggie lifted a hand and gentled pressed a finger to the glass. It was solid. Nothing coming through and nothing going through. A stillness laid in her heart as she waved her fingers over the glass in a familiar gesture, but the mirror remained silent.

She allowed her shoulders to relax. Maggie did not expect the spell to work. The mirror had not changed in ten years and there was no reason for it to start working now. This was a land without magic, and she would always be safe here. One day, she would work up the nerve to destroy the Eluvian, but today was not that day.

Outside, the sounds of the circus were dying down. The audience’s cars would be filing out of the parking lot and the rest of the cast members would be settling down in lawn chairs, drinking beer and chatting about the night’s show. Maggie would usually join them, but tonight she had to work on her final project for her class. 

Shoving her costumes out of the way, Maggie slid into the booth and opened her laptop carefully. The screen and keyboard were barely attached to each other so she had to type gently or else the entire thing would fall apart. She wouldn’t be able to afford a new laptop until she started working her new job so she had to be careful or else she wouldn’t graduate at all.

As she worked, Maggie scrubbed at her face with a baby wipe, trying to clean the layers of make-up off. The project was almost finished; she just had to fill in the final numbers which was incredibly boring.

Briefly, she wondered if she had time to grab a beer with her fellow cast members, but shook the thought away. She was almost done. _I’m almost there. _

Maggie woke up with her face squished against her laptop. She glanced up to see her finished finance project on the screen before her. Out of habit, she raised a sleepy arm and clicked the save button several times in quick succession. Looking at the laptop, she smiled to herself. Her dreams of a normal life were just an assignment submission away.

Out the tiny window of her trailer, the sky was pitch black. But there was light… light coming from..

“Shit,” Maggie breathed.

The Eluvian glowed, radiating magic that felt as familiar as her beating heart.

She leaped from her seat, “No, no, no, no,” She murmured to herself, “This can’t be happening. Please no.” Maggie stood in front of the mirror, murmuring every defensive, blocking spell she remembered. Although the mirror was lit up with power, her own magic had not returned.

“_Magdalene..”_

The mirror echoed her name into the silence of the night.

Her true name.

Every molecule of her being told her to run. She wanted to smash the mirror and never look back, but against her better judgment, Maggie lifted a trembling hand to meet the mirror.

The glass rippled like water against the touch of her fingertips. Her run-down trailer glowed with the divine golden light of ancient elven magic. She filled the intoxicating pull of power that had been missing from her life for twelve years.

With a start, Maggie jerked her hand away, cursing as that old preachy chantry verse entered her thoughts: Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him. She took another step back, putting distance between her and the mirror. Her own reflection stared back at her; Maggie could see her lust for magic in her own bright eyes.

No. She had to smash it now before anything came through. It could be her father or…No. No one else but her father would be looking for her. The thought made her pause, but Maggie had to shake it away. He chose his life and now, she was choosing hers.

Maggie opened her cabinets and pulled a hammer from her tool kit. She lifted the hammer, aiming for the frame when the mirror erupted into a brighter light. Maggie barely utterly a curse when it completely enveloped her.

Green light flashed.

She blinked. Did she just? Was that the fade? A faint memory pricked at the edge of her brain, but she couldn’t place it.

Besides, there was a more immediate problem.

Cold wind tore at her body, causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh. Her vision was blurred, but she could see mountains rising around her and felt the stink of magic everywhere. Maggie tried to take a step, but her body failed her. She stumbled but kept her balance. Through her black spotted eyes, she saw movement coming towards her.

People yelled, but it was like she was underwater and could only hear soft, garbled noises.

Swords glinted off the light of the sun and she felt her belly turn at the sight.

Very slowly, Maggie lowered herself to her knees, knowing she was about to pass out. She looked up, seeing a large, towering human shape several yards away. It nearly fifteen feet tall and misshapen, but the sight was ingrained into her memory.

It was a statue of Andraste.

As her consciousness slipped and the soldiers approached slowly, her mind realized where she was.

After twelve years, Magdalene had returned to Thedas.

____________________

There was something familiar about her.

Leliana watched the prisoner kneel on the floor of the dungeon. She was half-naked and shivering from the chill of the stone but had refused any comfort offered. She would not speak or answer any questions they asked. The prisoner had not even raised her head to look them in the eyes. As far as Cassandra was concerned, this was an admission of guilt. Leliana, however, was not convinced.

The more time she spent with the prisoner, the more something itched at her. Leliana couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew her from somewhere.

“Why did you do it?” Cassandra hissed, her rage barely keeping in check.

The prisoner remained silent as always, staring at the stone floor. Her hand twitched as the green light of the mark flashed. Cassandra made a move to step towards the prisoner, but Leliana touched her arm, pulling her back. It occurred to her that Cassandra was asking all the wrong questions. “Let me,” She said softly.

Leliana took a breath to steady herself before kneeling down next to the prisoner. She could feel Cassandra’s disapproval radiating, but ignored her, “Tell me why you were at the conclave.”

Either the question or the quiet tone of Leliana’s voice surprised the prisoner. She shifted on her knees and took a slow breath before answering, “…I wasn’t at the conclave.”

“How could you think—”

A quick look from Leliana made Cassandra go quiet. Leliana was surprised at the accent the prisoner had. It was unrecognizable to her. “You can understand how the Seeker and I would find that unbelievable considering our people found you in the remains of the temple where no else survived. How can you explain that?”

The prisoner’s body shook as she dipped her head low before bringing her eyes up to meet Leliana’s. The prisoner had tears dripping down her face from bright golden eyes. _Her eyes…_Her molten eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the dungeon. The prisoner’s low snort brought her back and she started with the realization that the woman was giggling.

“I have no idea why I’m here,” The prisoner said, wiping tears away with her shoulder with a limp, exhausted smile on her face, “I barely understand what you’re talking about. And I have no idea who any of you all are! If you just let me go and get rid of this fucking mark on my hand, you’ll never see me again!”

“You think this is funny?” Cassandra snarled, leaning down into her face, “Hundreds of people are dead! Justinia…The Divine is dead!”

This caused the prisoner to raise her eyebrows, “Wait the Divine is dead? What is going on? Where am I?”

Cassandra made a noise, “You were at the conclave that the Divine called to try to create peace in the mage templar war.”

The prisoner looked off to the side, a weird look on her face, “Man, I missed a lot.”

Suddenly, Cassandra shoved the prisoner hard, throwing her backward on the steps. Her hands were bound so the woman just had to take the hit. Before Cassandra could do anything else, Leliana stood, holding up a hand, “Cassandra, please, we need her.”

The prisoner was sprawled on the stairs, bound hands held up defensively. She looked between the two of them suspiciously, “Why?”

__________

There were several things Maggie loved the modern world. She loved dancing under the electric spotlight and singing along with the radio. She loved the fact that she lived alone. She loved fast food and sugary sweet taste of soda pop. Maggie loved the modern world for all its conveniences and amenities, but what she loved most of all about living on Earth was that there were no Pride Demons actively seeking to crush her behind its gigantic feet.

“Fuck!” Maggie screeched as she dove out of the way of the demon’s electric attack. She scrambled away, diving behind fallen pieces of the temple to shield herself. The leather armor they dressed her kept the sharp rocks from cutting into her skin. She felt the demon shake the ground around her as she risked a peek around the rubble.

Cassandra was leading the demon away from her. For a chantry bitch, Cassandra was an incredible warrior and positivity fearless. She took the demon on while the rest of the fighters regrouped.

“Stay back there under we get the situation under!” Cassandra called while deflecting a swipe from the demon.

_You don’t have to tell me twice_, Maggie thought as she glanced up at the swirling vortex called the breach. A spike of fear burrowed in her stomach, but she pushed it away. It’s been nearly twelve years since she faced a situation like this, and she didn’t know if she remembered how to fight.

Her magic wasn’t working. She tried to use it a thousand times in the dungeon to free herself, but it seems like the only magic inside her was the mark that plagued her hand. It was a good thing, Maggie tried to tell herself. That bitch seeker probably would have shipped her off to the nearest circle. The elf almost sold Maggie out, but she was able to deflect suspicion by saying that the magic he sensed must be from the mark.

Maggie was one hundred percent certain the elf _and _the dwarf knew she was full of shit, but they said nothing, and Cassandra was none the wiser.

Varric had taken a vantage point behind Cassandra and was releasing an onslaught of bolts into the massive demon and Solas was nearby using support magic while also strategically going on the offensive. The rest of the soldiers were spread across the battlefield and the ramparts.

She watched as Cassandra fended off another one of the demon’s attacks. A few soldiers in the path of destruction weren’t so lucky. Maggie ducked instinctively as a soldier got backhanded into the rubble she was hiding behind.

Maggie jumped up and slid over the rocks, landing beside the fallen soldier. She had a large cut on her head and was unconscious, but still breathing steadily. Maggie unfurled the scarf around her neck and pressed the wound. The demon was still distracted on the other side of the battlefield, so they were safe for now. Not knowing the extent of her injuries, Maggie was reluctant to move the woman.

The roar of the pride demon filled the air and she heard Varric’s gruff voice call out, “Seeker!”

Maggie’s head snapped up as the demon cornered Cassandra against the towering statue of Andraste. With a single swipe, its claws tore into her shield, shredding it instantly. Cassandra stumbled backward, but stared up at the demon as it pulled an arm back to strike once more.

Solas threw up a protective aura right as the claws came down. The aura shuttered at the impact but stayed up. Varric tried to pull the demon’s attention, but it focused in on Cassandra would be virtually defenseless when the spell failed.

Looking up at Andraste, Maggie sighed loudly. She was going to have to see if her body remembered anything about fighting.

Flexing her fingers, she could tell that her magic still wasn’t working, but the fallen soldier at her feet had a dagger tucked into her belt. Maggie grasped the hilt and pulled the dagger free, holding it in a reverse grip. Steadying her nerves, she raced across the temple rubble towards the demon.

“What are you doing? Get out of here!” Cassandra screamed as Maggie approached. She promptly ignored her.

Avoiding Solas’s spell, Maggie leaped onto the statue, holding on to the jagged stone with one hand and keeping the dagger in the other. She could sense Cassandra’s eyes on her as she climbed, but thankfully, the demon was preoccupied with trying to break the shield.

Her hand ached against the stone, but soon she reached the same height as the pride demon. It saw her now. Staring into her soul with its multitude of eyes. Before it could react, Maggie moved.

She leaped from the statue, dagger outstretched. The blade sunk into the wet flesh with a sickening pucker. Her free hand wrapped around the closest horn as she slammed into its face. Her feet couldn’t find any purchase, so she swung freely from one arm. The haunting roar of the demon blasted through her as she ripped the dagger free and stabbed again.

Black blood spurted over her, soaking her armor and slicking down her hands. Maggie clung with aching fingers to the horn and her dagger, trying not to fall to her death.

As the demon began to stumble, one thought passed through her head, _This shit wouldn’t happen on Earth_.

Maggie held tight as the demon fell backward and crashed into the ground. She laid on the dying body of the demon, watching the breach swirl in the sky. It was beautiful. Terrifying, but beautiful.

Covered in blood, she stood and lifted a hand to the sky. The breach crashed in reaction to her mark. The intoxicating, raw touch of magic connected to her soul as the green light shot into the sky.

A moment later, the heavens calmed.

Maggie wiped the blood from her face and look down where Cassandra, Varric, and Solas stood at the base of the demon. She gestured vaguely at the corpse with her dagger, “Demon blood, eh? It’s such a bitch to get out of clothes.”

Varric quipped something back to her, but she couldn’t hear him. Calming the breach had drained the power from her body and her vision started to blur. Slowly, she sat back down on the demon’s body and Cassandra walked closer, concerned. Maggie waved her away and closed her eyes, letting the darkness take over.

________________________________________

Cassandra had no words for what she saw in front of her. After calming a tear in the sky, the prisoner had simply laid down on the _corpse _of the pride demon she single-handedly killed and curled up like she was taking a nap.

Solas’s chuckle cut the silence, “Who is this woman?”

“So Seeker,” Varric chimed in, looking unbearably smug, “To my count, you threatened to kill the prisoner four times on the way up here and that bastard just saved your life and all of Thedas.”

Cassandra rubbed her face wearily, “Come on, we need to get her down to Haven. The power of the breach could have harmed her. She needs to see the healers.”

As she carried the prisoner down the mountain, Cassandra’s mind was racing. All thoughts echoing the same question Solas had: Who in Maker’s name was that woman? She appeared out of nowhere, half-naked, and didn’t even blink an eye at their interrogation techniques. The prisoner had the power to calm the raging skies and keep the people of Thedas safe from an enemy that was beyond understanding. It was almost as if she was heaven sent…

Her thoughts were interrupted by two chattering soldiers walking nearby. The woman that was speaking had a scarf wrapped around a bloody wound on her head, “I was there when she walked out of the fade! There was a woman in the rift behind her! It had to be Andraste sending her to save us!”

Cassandra and Leliana exchanged a worrying glance. It had been the same sentiments that Cassandra expressed, but the mystery of the Divine’s death still hung over their heads. If the prisoner was truly sent by Andraste to save them, then who was responsible for the conclave? Did they die in the wreckage or had they escaped, ready to strike again?

Their small group reached Haven to the sound of cheers and music. Healers came to take the prisoner and Cassandra was hesitant to pass the woman off. Her breath was even, and she seemed healthy enough. She would rather take the prisoner to a room to rest. Solas assuaged her fears.

“I’ll go with her, Cassandra,” Solas affirmed, “I will see her myself.”

Cassandra watched as the Solas and healers took the woman away. She felt a squeeze in her stomach as she remembered the life debt, she now owed her. Varric grunted a goodbye and wandered off into the crowd. Haven had completely shifted from when she left it. Women and men were chattering and dancing in the streets. Children ran around giggling and chasing one another with smiles on their faces. Not only did she owe her life to the prisoner, but so did everyone here.

Leliana appeared and spoke as if reading her thoughts, “Well, I guess we can’t refer to her as the prisoner anymore.”

Cassandra snorted away her laugh and strode into Haven, passing the celebrating mobs. Leliana followed her closely as they walked. Cullen was standing by the quartermaster tent and waved them over. She could see how tired he was by the way he moved. Cassandra wasn’t surprised; he held off the demons with only a handful of soldiers for several hours.

“Can either of you tell me who the Herald of Andraste is?” He asked, a trace of a smile on his face. Both women smiled back, unwilling to let a new problem ruin their victory. They were going to have to deal with it at some, but not right now. “But seriously, do you two even know what her name is?”

Leliana and Cassandra looked at each other expectantly. Leliana laughed, “I suppose that’s my fault. I will speak to her when she wakes up. I’ll have Josephine prepare her a room for when she is finished at the healers.”

Cullen unconsciously rubbed a bandaged wound on his arm, “So we don’t think she did it?”

“I vouch for her. I had a feeling she was telling the truth when I spoke to her in the dungeon earlier, but her actions make it clear that she wishes us or anyone else ill intent,” Leliana answered with assurance.

Cassandra paused, “I agree with Leliana. She didn’t have to save me. No one would have blamed her if she hid until the battle with the demon was over, but she stood and fought.”

Cullen nodded, “If you two agree on this, I will trust your judgment. If you excuse me, I need to check on my wounded.”

They bid Cullen farewell as he walked back to the outskirts of Haven. The two women were silent, trapped in their own thoughts. The sounds of the small town echoed through the streets and the sharp, cold wind bit into their skin.

“Do you think…is it time?” Leliana asked softly, not turning to look at her companion.

“Yes,” Cassandra answered, voice quiet, but determined, “And I want the prisoner—no—the Herald of Andraste on our side when we do it.”

Maggie had never been more frightened in her life when she opened the door to her cabin. With a loud squeal, she slammed it shut again, leaning against the flimsy wood with all her weight. Trying to calm her rapid breathing, Maggie put her ear to the door, listening. It was quiet: no sounds of soldier footsteps or weapons unsheathing.

Ever slowly, she cracked open the door again.

An entire battalion of armed soldier lined the path from her cabin, right arms across their hearts in a salute. A few civilians lingered among them, grinning whispering among themselves. Summoning her courage, Maggie stepped out of the cabin, shutting the door behind her. The soldiers didn’t move, but she could see their eyes flickering towards her.

“There she is!” A civilian pointed up at her, wonder in her voice, “The Herald of Andraste!”

_You gotta be fucking kidding me._

“Serah!” A nearby soldier got her attention, “The seeker requests your present in the chantry.”

“Yes,” Maggie nodded, trying to keep her face straight, “I’ll go there right away, but first, can you tell me the fastest way out of this town? Also, what town is this? I forget.”

The soldier responded promptly, “You are in Haven. The main exit is straight down this path and then turn right at the gate.”

“And the nearest town beyond here?” Maggie couldn’t place the name Haven. She could only guess that she was in Ferelden due to the accents and temperature.

“The nearest town is miles away. We are deep in the Frostbacks.”

_Great_, Maggie snarled to herself sarcastically. “Yes, thank you. I suppose I will go find the Seeker now.”

She wandered down the path, trying to ignore eyes on her. On her right, surrounded by soldiers, was the main gate. She and herself unanimously decided it would be a bad idea to try to escape right now and turned left instead, walking up the stairs to where the chantry waited. They may be waiting to execute her, but she did not have much of choice.

It was surprisingly warm inside the building. A few people meandered around inside, including a couple of soldiers. One caught her attention, “They’re waiting for you in the room at the end of the hall. Just go on in.”

Maggie nodded her thanks and hurried down the hallways, ignoring the glances the chantry sisters were giving her. In her personal experience, she and members of the chantry didn’t get along very well.

As she approached, loud voices filtered through the door. Maggie sidled up next to the wood and pressed her ear against it. Cassandra and a man were arguing. Suddenly, the voices went silent and Maggie quickly jumped backward, trying to look innocence as Leliana swung the door open. The room was dim and had a massive table in the middle with a map stretched across the length of it.

“Nice of you to join us,” Leliana said, a knowing smile on her face as she let Maggie in the room and walked to the other side of the table.

Chancellor Rodrick raised an angry fist at her, pointing, “Guards! Arrest this woman! I want her prepared to travel to the capital for trial.”

Maggie froze, feeling panicked, when Cassandra stepped in-between them, “Chancellor Rodrick, the herald is under my protection now. If you choose to threaten her, you threaten me.”

Maggie looked as bewildered as Rodrick did, “She cannot be allowed to walk free! The prisoner—”

“She has a name!” Cassandra said, glancing worryingly over her shoulder at Maggie.

“Although we don’t know what it is,” Leliana piped up with an expectant look.

Maggie opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to form words due to shock.

The chancellor spoke up in her absence, “You still serve the chantry!” He snarled at the Cassandra.

Cassandra glowered at him, “Yes, I serve the chantry. Not you. Besides the breach is still a threat to the world and the herald is the only line of defense we have.”

He threw his hands in the air, exasperated and walked to the door, “I’ll be contacting the chantry in the capital about this.”

As the door shut, Cassandra turned around to face her, “How are you feeling?”

“Uhhhhhhh…” Maggie’s eyes flicked from Cassandra to Leliana to the door.

“I meant what I said,” Cassandra stated, walking over and leaning on the table. _The herald is under my protection now._

Her path to the only exit in the room was clear now, “I’m fine, I guess.”

“Good,” Leliana responded, “Would you mind sharing your name with us?”

There was something about her smile that freaked Maggie out. In this room, the unspoken words practically yelled in her ears. “My name is my Maggi—Err, well my name is Magdalene.”

“Magdalene,” Leliana tested, “What a lovely name. Is that elven in origin?”

She rolled her eyes, “Do you really want to spend your time chatting about the origin of my name or are you gonna ask me already.”

A silence stretched over the room, “Magdalene, we need your help,” Cassandra said. It wasn’t a plead or question. It was a simple statement of fact.

“No.”

____________________

“Hey Trouble!”

Maggie turned her head away from Seggrit to see Varric relaxing by the fire. Solas was sitting on the other side of the fire, book in-hand. He glanced up briefly to nod a greeting to her. Varric waved, getting her attention and patting the blanket beside him in invitation. Carefully adjusting her jacket of goods she stole from the racist trader, she walked over to him.

“I assume you’re talking to me?” She said, sitting down next to him and stretching her limbs out towards the fire.

Varric grinned, “In the whole five minutes I’ve known you, I have never met anyone else more deserving of the title.”

Solas looked amused and closed his book, “Wouldn’t that title befit the champion?”

“Perhaps,” Varric mused, “But Trouble here is giving her a run for her money.”

Maggie wasn’t sure who the champion was, but didn’t care, “You can’t prove anything,” Maggie protested, grinning at them. _This was gonna be easy_.

Varric reached over and poked her in the side. His finger met the hard bread she had tucked into her jacket, “Yeah so you weren’t just stealing from that Seggrit over there.”

“Of course not,” Maggie responded with mock horror, “Stealing is wrong, Varric!”

Solas and Varric both laughed, “And what about lying straight to the Seeker’s face?” Varric said. His joking tone of voice didn’t change, but he spoke more quietly.

Maggie stared fire. No one else was near them so she spoke, “They think I’m some religious figure, sent to save everyone. I just want to go home.”

“Shouldn’t you at least keep your word to think about for a couple of days?” Solas asked, stretching his arms, “Do you even have a plan? The forest continues for miles before you’ll reach civilization.”

She picked at a thread on her jacket while a group of workers went by, “I’ll steal a horse.”

Varric raised his eyebrows, “Do you know how to steal a horse?”

“I’ll admit it’s been a few years, but I figure they couldn’t have changed it too much.”

That brought a laugh from Varric, “And where will you go after that?”

“Denerim,” She answered, “Get on the first boat out of Ferelden.”

“That’s quite a plan you have there,” Solas commented, his eyes boring in hers, “Are you sure you can do all that while your magic isn’t working?”

Maggie’s eyes went wide, “SHHHHhhhhh!” She hissed, doing her best to keep her body still. After the initial panic passed, she crossed her legs nervously, “I don’t know why an apostate like you is still walking free, but if anyone knew I was, they would ship me off to trial.”

"I don't comprehend what is blocking your magic. Do you know why you can't access it?" Solas inquired. 

She laughed nervously, "It's a long story. And I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." 

“The Seeker and Nightingale aren’t as bad as people think,” Varric went on, realizing that Maggie wasn't going to explain about her magic. “I believe they mean it when they say they’ll protect you. Mage or no. I mean Rodrick is proof that there are chantry fanatics who still think you’re responsible for the conclave and they can keep you safe from them.”

“They want me to be a herald of Andraste.” Maggie rubbed her marked hand, “Why does no one else think this is crazy? I’m not even Andrastian!”

“People need to believe there’s something bigger than themselves,” Solas answered, looking pointedly at the breach hanging over their heads, “Especially when the impossible lies in front of them. They need to believe you were meant to save them.”

Varric nodded, “Besides, this Inquisition thing isn’t such a bad idea. Blasphemous? Maybe a tad. But the rebellion caused a right mess and no one is doing anything about now that the Divine’s dead. Someone has to help, and it might as well be us. Who better to rally behind than the woman who stepped out of the fade and stabilized the breach with a wave of her hand?”

Maggie smiled at him, “I don’t take chances, Varric. I just do what I need to survive.” Her bones cracked as she stood from the fire and walked away. The final pieces of her escape were in place.

She wondered how long it would take for them to spill the false information to Leliana and Cassandra.

______________

It was going to be a long night. Cullen leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Already a headache threatened to takeover. Thankfully, it was from reading in the dark of his tent and not from withdraw. He dropped the report he was trying to read, giving up. Whoever wrote it had the tiniest penmanship he had ever seen, making it nearly impossible to read.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the desk and stood up. He needed to get some fresh air before diving into the rest of this paperwork. Ducking through the tent flap, he wandered through the army camp. He walked through the shadows and into the forest. There was a small path he knew that ran the length of the camp; it allowed him to observe without disturbing his soldiers in their off-hours.

A calm wash of panic washed over him as he observed their numbers from the trees. They needed more people in their ranks. New recruits were coming in daily, but it wasn’t enough if they sustained an organization on the scale of the Inquisition. But even if he were able to get more recruits, they would need at least two months of training before he would even think about sending them into a real fight.

Cullen was so caught up in his thoughts as he trekked down the path that, suddenly, he ran straight into someone. He bounced off the form and caught himself against a tree. The person had not even budged at his weight. They wore a long cloak with a hood obscuring their face and they were nearly as tall as he was.

“Excuse me,” Cullen apologized, straightening clothes, “I was distracted and didn’t think anyone else walked the trail this late at night.”

“It’s no bother,” A women’s voice responded. She turned towards him and pushed her hood back, “I wasn’t expecting anyone back here either, dear.”

Cullen stared as her face caught light from the sky. He felt his skin grow hot at her smirk. Her face was covered in some sort of translucent white power, making her glow in the light of the moon. The woman’s cat-like yellow eyes were lined thickly in black and her cheeks were highlighted with deep rouge. Most noticeably, her lips were coated with bright red lipstick that was smeared across her snow pale face as though she was recently kissed.

He had spent enough time patrolling the seedier parts of Kirkwall to recognize a prostitute when he saw one.

She tossed her long black hair and adjusted her shoulder in a way that allowed her cloak to fall back, revealing a corset that tightly squeezed her chest. Cullen looked at the ground.

“Is everything alright, soldier?” She asked softly.

“Yes—Yes…I’m—everything is fine,” Cullen rushed out, looking anywhere, but at her. “Uh…how are you?”

The woman laughed and he nervously clasped his gloved hands together. “I’m great, thank you for asking.”

Cullen shifted from foot to foot. He didn’t want to be rude and runoff, “Why are you out on this trail? Not many people come here at night.”

He immediately felt stupid; this was probably where she met her clients. He blushed again at the thought but she giggled again and answered, “Well, soldier if you really want to know…” Cullen internally cringed as she trailed off, “I’m actually just on my way out of town.”

“Wait, you’re going out of town now?” He asked, confused and looking up at her for the first time, “By yourself?”

She cocked her head, “Yes, is that a problem?”

He measured his next words carefully, trying to find a way to say his concerns without offending her, “Should someone of your profession be traveling alone?”

One side of her mouth quipped up, “Tell me, soldier, what exactly do you think my profession is?”

“I…uh,” Cullen didn’t think it was possible for him to be any more embarrassed.

“Kidding! I’m a whore!” She grinned at him.

Cullen released a laugh, half relief, half from her shit-eating grin, “Please don’t scare me like that again. I don’t think I could survive.”

“No promises,” She giggled, winking at him. “But since I’m leaving, I think you’ll be safe, dearie.”

She turned to walk in the forest when Cullen grasped her hand. “Please, wait until sunrise. I know some traders going out and I’ll ask them to let you ride in the wagon.”

The woman peered at him suspiciously and then down where he held her, carefully removing his hand, “Sorry, love, but the shop is closed down for the night.”

“No—nothing like that!” Cullen said, taking a step back and holding his hands up as an offering of peace. “I just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

The woman raised her eyebrows, “I can take care of myself.”

“And I’m sure you can, but the little bag of provisions you’re carrying isn’t going to last you until the next town,” Cullen bargained. He was determined to make sure this woman didn’t starve to death before she made it to her destination. “Let me get you some from the camp.”

Her face softened towards him, “I can’t ask you to steal. You could get in trouble or get kicked from the army.”

“Actually…” Cullen ran a hand through his hair, “I’m the commander of the army so I can take what I want within reason.”

She blinked and a slight look of recognition then worry passed over her face, “You’re Commander Cullen?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Aren’t you a former templar?”

“Well, yes. Why do you ask?” He questioned. Her brow deepened and she slowly took a step back.

The sweet teasing smile had vanished, and her face hardened. “If you’re such a chantry boy, why would you want to help a sex worker?”

Cullen looked down; he really didn’t have an explanation. “I guess I don’t really care what you do for work as long as you’re okay with what you do,” He answered softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to make sure you have what you need to be safe.”

“Oh,” She uttered. She tucked her hair behind her ears, looking bashful for the first time, “Thank you, soldier—I mean—commander.”

He smiled, “You’re not part of my army. You can call me Cullen.” He held out a hand for her to shake.

Slowly, she took a step forward and grasped his hand. Her grip was strong, but he wasn’t surprised. “My name is Maggie,” She said it slowly as if she expected a reaction out of him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He inclined his head before releasing her. Her hand lingered in the air a moment before it slowly fell to her side, “If you wait here, I will retrieve some provisions for your journey, Maggie.”

Her yellow-golden eyes flashed in the dark and she gave him a smile as he walked briskly to camp. He heard her call after him quietly. “Thank you, Cullen…”

Hurrying into the camp, Cullen walked to the army’s supply sergeant tent. The sergeant didn’t look up until she noticed Cullen pick up a knapsack and start stuffing food into it. Cullen nodded a greeting to her, but she was too bewildered at the sight of him taking army provisions to respond. He grabbed apples, a block of cheese, and a couple of loaves of bread. It wasn’t fancy but it would keep her alive.

Ignoring the looks he was getting, Cullen strode back into the forest, following the trail. He walked for a few minutes before he realized he already passed the spot where she was supposed to wait. He stood in place, listening to the forest, trying to see if he could hear her, but only wind whistled through his ears.

He gripped the bag in his hand and quietly sent a prayer to the Maker to keep Maggie safe.

__________

Leliana had stationed a group of agents dressed as civilians outside of the herald’s cabin and, based on Varric’s information, she placed another group by the stable. Both teams had some of her most trusted agents in them. Their orders were to follow the herald without restraining her and for one agent to retrieve Cassandra or herself. She made herself busy pouring over reports, waiting for them to summon her.

One can imagine her surprise when no agent came to fetch her all night.

Blinking away her tiredness after a night of no sleep, Leliana ventured out of the chantry. She stifled a yawn and walked down to the area where the herald’s cabin was. As she approached, one of her agents came over to meet her, “Good morning, Lady Nightingale,” She said, with a quick salute.

“Good morning,” Leliana replied, inclining her head slightly. “There was no movement last night?”

“None.” The agent reported, “The Herald of Andraste did not leave her cabin.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.” Leliana stared at the door of the cabin for a moment before walking briskly down to the gates of Haven. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know what it was yet.

A couple of her agents leaned against the walls of the blacksmith, chatting. When they saw her coming, they immediately straightened.

“All is well?” Leliana questioned, looking at their small corral. No horses were missing.

“Yes, ser,” An agent responded. “It was quiet all night.”

Nodding farewell, Leliana walked back to Haven, her thoughts swarming. Had Magdalene changed her mind about the Inquisition? Maybe she decided to give it a chance. _No, that couldn’t be it_, Leliana thought, _there’s no way she didn’t try to leave last night…_

Leliana rushed up the path, striding past her agents. With a sharp knock, she entered the cabin. It was chilly inside as the fire had died over night. The herald’s armor was placed neatly on the chest. Seeing that, Leliana momentarily believed that the herald was still there. Surely, she wasn’t so stupid to head off into the wilderness without good armor. Then Leliana remembered how Magdalene flung herself into the face of a pride demon.

The bed _looked_ occupied; A pile of quilts covered a still figure. Leliana approached, stepping loudly to give the herald a chance to wake up. When nothing stirred, she threw back the blanket, revealing only a bundle of pillows.

Magdalene had left Haven. She lied to their faces and slipped past agents Leliana trained herself. The herald had somehow tricked all of them.

Voices alerted her to others entering the cabin. She turned to see Cassandra and Cullen standing at the door. “She’s gone,” Leliana said. The two said nothing as she walked across the room to the table and started sifting through the piles. Nothing looked like it belonged to the Herald.

“The herald is gone?” Cullen asked, surprise evident in his voice. “How? I thought you had people to follow her if she left?”

“They never saw her leave the cabin.” Leliana moved through the room, trying to find some hint of the herald’s plan.

“We know where she’s going,” Cassandra said hopefully. “The two of us can mount up and cut her off.”

She stopped searching the cabin and shook her head, “She tricked us. She was better than us. She must have confessed a fake plan to Varric, knowing he would share it with us. She’s not headed for Denerim. She could be anywhere.”

It was quiet as the magnitude of the situation settled. Without the herald, they couldn’t close the breach. Cassandra broke the silence first, puffing out her chest in confidence. “We need her. We’ll just have to find her and bring her back kicking and screaming. She is our only hope.”

Leliana knew the task was impossible, but Cassandra was right. They had to try or else the Breach could consume the world. “You’re right. She’s not exactly subtle so I’m sure if we spread our people out when we’ll get a sense of her whereabouts.”

“Her eyes are very unusual so we can tell them to look out for that.”

At Cassandra’s statement, Cullen coughed. Leliana tilted her head, “Are you alright, Commander?”

He looked uncomfortable, scratching the back of his neck and staring at the floor. “Her eyes? They’re golden, almost yellow, right? And long black hair?”

The two women exchanged glances. “Yes?”

“What is her name?”

Leliana crossed her arms. “Magdalene.”

“Magdalene?” Cullen said slowly, almost bashfully, “So like Maggie?”

“Yes?” Leliana replied, looking confused. “Why do you ask?”

He looked down; his face flushing bright red. “I know something that might help.”

Cullen recounted what happened to him the night before to Leliana's great joy.

Leliana couldn’t help it; she giggled. Cassandra stared at him, disbelieving. “How did you not recognize her? Or recognize her name!”

“To be fair, you never use her name, so I didn’t know it,” He rushed to defend himself, trying not to trip over his words. “And I’ve only met her once, up in the temple while demons were raining down on us. And—and she didn’t recognize me either!”

Leliana clapped him on the shoulder, smiling brightly. “No, thank you. This is good, Cullen. We know what direction she went in now and what she’s wearing. We can narrow our search.” She cackled out loud once more, feeling merriment, “The Herald of Andraste! Dressed as a sex worker!”

Now that was a tale for chantry books.


	2. Times Are Hard For Dreamers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie ran into a problem after leaving Haven and then makes some new friends.

Maggie decided to count her plan as a success.

She had escaped the eyes of Leliana’s watchful agents by sneaking out the window of the cabin and taking the long way around the camp. Dressed in her disguise, most people avoided looking at her or were too distracted by her breasts to recognize her face. Maggie walked right out of the main gates of Haven without any trouble.

Feeling confidence after that, Maggie stopped to flirt with some of the soldiers by the camp. After a minute, she wheedled the information about the roads out of them and they directed her to the path in the forest where she bumped into Cullen. Before that moment, she had decided to hate him on principle for being a templar. Templars were half the reason her family was torn apart.

He all but demanded to help her, never once doubting her ability to protect herself. He shook her hand without hesitation and smiled so kindly that her whole body warmed. As he walked away, Maggie knew she had to run or else she would put her faith in that man and stay. _If a man like him is in the Inquisition, I may have misjudged them_.

Once Cullen disappeared through the trees, the spell he had over her broke. Maggie remembered her resolution to return to Earth and rushed away before he could return.

Despite the encounter with the commander, her plan went perfectly.

So, yes, she was counting her plan as a success.

Unfortunately, what came _after_ that was not so much a success.

Maggie put her face in-between the bars of her cage, sneering at Rodrick. “Hey stupid fuckface, let me out of here or I’ll explode your stupid fuckface.”

Rodrick blinked but didn’t look at her. He was afraid of her, she could tell. His leg tensed against his horse, propelling it forwards so that he wouldn’t be riding next to the cart. Maggie flopped down on the straw-covered floor, annoyed at the situation.

The first few days after she left Haven went well. Maggie made it to the next town and traded her services as a bard for a night in the inn. The innkeeper wasn’t thrilled by her disguise, but her singing won her over. She became a pleasant woman who was more than happy to answer questions about what happened over the last twelve years in Thedas. The innkeeper told a rather biased tale about the Blight which could not be true (Only two Grey Wardens defeating the blight? Yeah right!) and talked about the hardships of the Mage Templar war. She didn’t know much about how it started but told Maggie about how violent the battles had become and how many people became refugees.

The day after Maggie left that town, she became a little complacent. Removing her thick makeup and taking the main road. She sang loudly as she walked and the chancellor found her, meandering down the road. Rodrick stayed back while three warriors surrounded her. Maggie only had a small knife and no magic, so she was forced to give in.

“You’re powerless,” the templar riding on the other side of the cart said, looking at her with disgust, “And even if you weren’t, I would smite you before you could do anything.”

Maggie made a face at him, “I’m the herald of Andraste and you serve the Chantry. Should you like bow and exalt me or something?”

It didn’t hurt to try that card.

The Templar visibly strained. “Blasphemy. You are a herald of nothing.”

She giggled at him, stretching her legs out as far as possible against the cage. “You better hope so after what you’re doing to me.”

The wagon hit a particularly deep bump and she smacked her head against the bars. She groaned loudly and the templar snickered at her, “Serves you right, bitch.”

Maggie bristled, at his words. She imagined using her magic to summon a lightning strike to electrocute him. That’s when she felt it; a tiny swell of magic awakening inside of her. The feeling of excitement filled her. It was a small power, but it was proof that her magic was coming back. Before she could try to harness it to straight-up murder that templar, he cast a smite, squashing the power within her. It was as if he had punched her in the gut. Maggie curled up in the bottom of the cage, bringing her knees to her chest.

The templar looked down at her from his horse. “Looks like you still have a little fight left in you,” He commented, his face clear. “I have no idea how you survived the conclave. You are one of the weakest mages I have ever met. It’s almost as if you’re a child. Smiting you is unbelievably easy.”

_Yep, I’m going to kill him._ Maggie couldn’t feel a connection to the magic now. She focused on keeping her breathing calm. Magic took practice and she just needed to remember how to use it. Instead of a steady flood like before, her magic was like the tide: ebbing and flowing.

It didn’t matter if she could gain control again with that templar there. He watched her every moment of the day. He was the only templar in their group, but was vigilant, never leaving her alone for more than a few moments.

She needed to get rid of him before she could escape her imprisonment. Escaping was only the first problem. She had no idea what to do if she got free because Maggie didn’t know where she was. Going back to the Inquisition was the safest option and she was certain she could find her way back from here. But she didn’t want to fight for them; She wanted to go home. It was much safer there. No one ever threatened to execute her on Earth. She doubted it was going to be simple to find another Eluvian, but she had to try. She wanted that normal life.

She breathed deeply. It was unnerving being back in Thedas and having to make decisions like this. She longed for her ramshackle trailer, a diet of ramen noodles, and trashy circus job. At least there she didn’t have to deal with running for her life every moment of the day.

“Where are we going?” Maggie asked once the feeling of the smite had mostly dissipated.

The templar ignored her. She sighed dramatically, sitting up and looking at the rest of her captors. The cart had stopped moving for the moment as the guides stood by the horses, debating which fork in the road to take.

Rodrick was the only actual Chantry member here and she disliked him on principle. Plus he kidnapped her so that’s probably another reason to hate him. Then there were two mercenaries that were acting as the guides and another one driving her cart. They weren’t what one would call a top-notch crew and would be easy to escape from if she got out of this cage.

The templar was the real problem. He would be able to smite her to the point of her not being able to move in her weakened state. She would have to incapacitate him first and that meant using the only weapon she had at her disposal: annoying him to death.

“I’m assuming we are going to Val Royeaux?” Maggie questioned innocently, pronouncing the city name with an unnecessary Orlesian accent. “I only ask out of curiosity.”

“Why don’t you just shut up and enjoy the few days you have left?” the templar snapped back at her. “You’ll figure out where we are going when we get there.”

Maggie stood up on her knees, gripping bars and steadying herself for what was coming, “It’s funny. You still wear the armor of the templar and take Rodrick’s orders, but the templars are not serving the chantry anymore. So, you’re really nothing.” The Templar didn’t say anything, but she could see him tensing, “You’re just a man too weak and brainwashed to help the mages and too scared to break off the _real_ templars.”

The smite seized her instantly, but she was prepared for it this time. She held herself up by the bars, putting a suitably pained look on her face. The templar dismounted his horse and grabbed her by the shirt collar, pulling her up against the bars in some sort of intimidation technique, but all Maggie could think about was how greasy his hair was.

“They are _not _real templars!” He yelled, so close to her face that she could smell his rotten breath, “They are self-serving and have forgotten what being Templar is trul—”

Maggie jabbed her right fist out at the templar’s face. The fist connected, but not with his face.

The templar sneered at her, holding her fist in his hand, “Pathetic.” He twisted Maggie’s wrist and she cried out sharply as he shoved her backward. She collapsed against the hard floor of the cage. He spat at her before walking away and remounting his steed, spurring ahead a few feet so he wouldn’t be level with her.

Maggie ducked her head and pretended to groan to hide the smile growing across her face. She had only feinted the punch to distract from her true goal: the templar’s traveling lyrium kit. She gripped it in her left hand, pushing it beneath the straw.

It wasn’t Maggie’s first rodeo. She ran from templars her entire life before her father moved her to Earth. Defeating one lone templar wasn’t even a challenge when she was a teenager, but now Maggie had to be careful. She was rusty and didn’t know if recent templars had received new training styles that she wouldn’t expect. For now, the templar seemed unaware that his lyrium was missing.

Up ahead, one of the mercenaries gestured for the cart to start moving again. Maggie found herself missing cars, but then she remembered that if they were in a car, she would probably already be in Val Royeaux, hanging from a noose. Thank goodness for slow transportation.

Now for the second stage of her plan, all she had to do was get the templar to smite her a couple more times for him to lose most of his power. Eventually, he would need lyrium to recharge and that’s when she would escape.

Maggie took a deep breath. This was gonna hurt.

“Yo bitchass—”

She didn’t have time to finish her cleverly crafted insult. The templar smited her before she even had the chance to insult his mother. Maggie sprung into a coughing fit as the spell seize her body. The templar was really putting his back into this spell. Her feet twitched, but she couldn’t move her legs.

The smite stayed over her for longer than normal. It pulled back slightly as the Templar leveled his horse back beside her cage, “Learn from your mistakes. Shut your mouth and maybe you’ll make to Val Royeaux in one piece.”

“Oh, so we _are_ going to Val Royeaux?”

Maggie regretted speaking again when the full force of the smite returned. Then as suddenly as the pain appeared, it went away. She looked up at the templar. Sweat ran down from his brow and he tried to calm his breath but had trouble. He was getting tired.

“No. More.” He growled, leaning over to her.

_You’ve got no more. _

Maggie lowered her eyes in a faux submission. She could feel his smirk baring down on her. She resisted retorting, keeping her head low, gripping the traveling lyrium box in her hand. The templar seemed satisfied that she had been properly put into her place. He pulled ahead again, pointing his head straight ahead.

Without looking down, Maggie needled her fingernail into the opening of the kit. She pushed her thumb inside. She instantly felt the face of Andraste behind her fingers. She scowled at the carving and moved to the other compartment feeling the glass flash behind the pads of her fingers. Her eyes stayed on the templar as she worked the cork out of the flask with two fingers. The ambient noise of the forest and creaking of the cart covered the squeaking of the cork. But she couldn’t dig the cork out with one hand.

Staring at the templar, she saw him lift a gloved hand, wiping the sweat from his brow. Maggie watched as his hand then traveled down to the empty spot on his belt where the traveling lyrium kit was supposed to be.

Forgetting subtly, Maggie brought the bottle to her lips, sinking her teeth into the cork. The cork ripped out the bottle with a loud _pop_. The templar whipped around on his horse as the cool glass touched her lips. The lyrium into her mouth like it was completing a part of her. She savored the taste as she felt the magic inside her swell.

_Oh, this was definitely a bad idea._

With an easy and practiced grace, Maggie extended her hand towards the templar. Divine power exploded from her fingertips and purple lightning cracked down from the sky, knocking the templar clean off his horse.

The mercenary driving the wagon, yanked on the reins, causing it to come to an abrupt stop. Taking a deep breath, Maggie grabbed the bars of her cage, concentrating all her energy into them. Another explosion blasted through the air, collapsing the cage around her.

Leaping down, she landed lightly next to the templar’s horse. Snatching the reins, she placed a hand on its neck, calming the horse with magic. Maggie pulled herself into the saddle, holding her legs tightly as the stirrups were too long for her.

She glanced over at the mercenary driving the wagon. She didn’t move and Maggie smiled at her. “Smart choice.”

Maggie clucked and the horse obediently took off down the road. She rode up on Rodrick and the other two mercenaries. Rodrick immediately took off into the forest, tearing his own path into the brush at the sight of her magic. The mercenaries made awkward grabs for their weapons, but these were Ferelden born people and they had no clue how to fight on horseback. Maggie blew past them before they could lift their heavy weapons.

She felt the power of the horse beneath her and was certain that she could escape them even if they decided to give chase. Maggie did not want to fight them again if she could help it. The magic that the lyrium brought on felt wild, almost unstable. It took much of her concentration to keep it calmed.

After a few minutes, she felt the horse slow. Maggie pulled the pace back and trotted off the road into the trees. Her own legs ached; she would need to fix the stirrups before another run like that, but she wanted to get farther away first.

The forest grew thick around her. Maggie leaned forward, released the tension of her legs. Rodrick would pursue her, but not right away. She had a moment before she decided her next move.

Her original plan was exactly what she told Varric: to travel to Denerim. Maggie had figured they would decide she lied about that and she could get enough more of a head start. She used to have many friends who lived there; it was possible that some were still there and would help her.

Or they might know where her family was…

Maggie shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. “No. Nope. No way,” She muttered, guiding the horse through the thicket. The thought of her drama-filled and complicated family filled her with unmatched dread and rage.

She imagined they were dead mostly. It was easier that way. She pictured her oldest sister dying a very messy death to the blight and her other sister, a victim to the mage rebellion. She imagined her father dead at the hands of a very creative bandit. Maggie did not wish death upon them, but it would certainly make her life easier if she didn’t run into them.

They had abandoned her on Earth.

After two years living in the land of no magic, her sisters demanded to return to Thedas. It was the magic they missed and the lure of being powerful. They somehow got her father’s Eluvian working and dove through. He rushed after them and leaving Maggie alone.

Maggie had sat in front of the mirror, unmoving for a week. She wept for her family, begging them to come back. Begging for them not to leave her alone, but the mirror remained only a mirror.

In the back of her mind, Maggie knew it was possible that they had tried to come back to get her, but she didn’t care. The sorrow she felt for her mixed-up family had hardened into relentless anger. Her fingers tightened around the reins thinking about them.

Slouching on the horse, Maggie could tell the effects of lyrium was wearing off. She was growing tired. She shook her family from her mind and focused on the task at hand. Maggie sat up straight, journeying farther into the forest.

“Excuse me, miss, but did you happen to take my purse?”

Maggie looked over at the man. She knew that he had followed her after she pickpocketed him in the tavern, but she didn’t know the city well enough to lose him. He stood at her same height but was much broader. The masked obscured his features, but she could see by his stance that he was ready to fight. They were in an empty alleyway with only had one exit: through him.

She leaned, cocking her hip out and pulling his purse from her cloak. Her magic was still funky, but it didn’t matter. She could still take him down. The man made no move as she twirled the drawstring bag around a finger. “Yes,” She responded, “What are you going to do about it?”

The Orlesian paused, caught off guard before surging forward, trying to grab his purse. Maggie swiftly side-stepped him, catching his outstretched arm and neatly tucking it behind his back. The man was strong, but Maggie was stronger. She let him struggle, letting him feel his weakness. With a quick shove, Maggie knocked him over. He lay sprawled on the ground, dirt tainting his white suit.

The sudden twang of a bow sang through the alleyway. Instinctively, Maggie threw her body backward, slamming against the wall. The arrow thudded into the Orlesian man’s face, causing him to go limp.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to identify the shooter. There wasn’t anywhere in the to hide. A snort echoed through the space as a woman appeared over the roof, “HA, that was great!” She chortled as she stood from her hiding place behind a chimney and slung her bow over her shoulder. With extreme deftness, she latched on the side of the building, shimming down a drain pipe.

Maggie watched as the woman, an elf with stunted bangs approached her. “Did you see the look on his stupid face when you said,” the woman lowered her voice to match Maggie’s, “_what are you going to do about it?_”

“Uh…” Maggie stuttered, still pressed up against the wall. She looked down at the dead man. “He a friend of yours?”

The woman blew a raspberry, “I dunno who this guy is. My people just told me to look in on him.”

“Oh,” Maggie answered, forcing her shoulders to relax. Checking in on someone meant killing them? “Who are you?”

She grinned, “I’m Sera! In your face, yeah?”

“I meant more like who are you, as in, why are you doing this,” Maggie explained, scratching her head as she looked at Sera. “But hi, I’m Maggie.”

“I’m a friend!”

“A friend?” Maggie questioned, feeling confused.

Sera looked annoyed. “It’s like this: Fancy, rich tits get to feeling all important up behind their big walls and start stomping on the little folk with no walls, yeah? So the little folk leave friends messages when the rich tits get out hand. Friends of Red Jenny, eh?”

Realization crossed Maggie’s face. She had heard of the Friends of Red Jenny before, “Wait so you’re Red Jenny?”

“No, I’m a _friend_!”

“Then who’s Red Jenny?”

Sera rolled her eyes. “Look, you’re pretty, but not very smart. I saw you handle this prat. You want to help me with a job? We can split the reward, yeah?”

Maggie shrugged, “I guess I don’t have anything better to do.”

________

_Dear Leliana,_

_ We found Rodrick. He was traveling with a small group of mercenaries and a templar and is on his way back to Haven. He confessed to having taken the Herald captive, but she escaped by using magic. I was not aware that she was a mage, but Solas and Varric remained unsurprised. _

_ In a town a few miles away, we found the horse she stole from the Chancellor. Oddly, it seems that her path is heading straight for Val Royeaux. Have your agents in the city look out for her. _

_ Every day, I see more rifts throughout the countryside. The herald is the only one that will be able to close them. We need her, but still, I have no idea what to say to her to convince her to help._

_\--Cassandra_

______

The night before, Sera and Maggie stayed up late to work on their plan of attack. They worked very hard for the first five minutes and then spend the rest of the night trying to outdrink each other. Once the sun began to rise, two women conceded to a tie for fear Val Royeaux would run out of drink.

Maggie laid a hand over her eyes, blocking out the sun. “Where are we again?”

Somehow, they came to their senses on the rooftop of a manor. It was quite expansive and had large gardens surrounded by a tall metal wall. Sera groaned, pulling herself up to a sitting position. The chatting of Orlesian nobles could be heard below. “I dunno. I was just told to break up this party. You know, give those pricks something to remember.”

The details of last night were fuzzy. She didn’t remember what the plan was. “I could just puke off the roof. It’ll probably land on some poor sod.”

“If you throw up then I win!” Sera demanded, looking a little nauseous herself.

“Fine,” Maggie grumbled. She crawled to the edge of the roof, looking over at the guests entering the manor. “Then how are we going to break up this shindig?”

A particularly evil smile crossed Sera’s face and a deep giggle escaped her throat. From her belt, she produced small bottles. “With these!”

“Jar of Bees?” She gasped, taking the bottle in hand. She had not seen one of these since she was a child. Her oldest sister was a gifted alchemist and gift these to her often when they were on good terms. Maggie used to use them to pull pranks.

“We each take one of these and wait until everyone’s in the parlor and then BAM!” Sera laughed evilly. “Bees in their crotch!”

Maggie stared admirably at her. “Sera, I am so in love with you right now.”

The women split up. Sera took the front entrance to the parlor while Maggie snuck down into the garden to cover the back. There were a few guests and elven servants in the gardens, but they were easy to avoid using the large hedges and bushes in the area.

She crouched down several meters from the large double doors, hiding behind a bush. She could stay there, unseen until the guest adjourned to the parlor. No one would be able to find her here.

“What you are you doing?”

Maggie jumped to her feet, eye wide, turning to face the woman who walked up behind her. “Nothing, uh, miss! Just preparing for the party.”

Maggie wasn’t used to people being taller than her, but this woman stretched several inches higher. She wore a horned headdress that was adorned with a delicate silver mask. White leather pants and corset clung to her slim figure causing contrast against her clear, dark skin. The woman looked at Maggie with disdain. “Don’t tell me you’re a guest,” She sighed. “I knew this party would be beneath me.”

“I’m not,” Maggie snapped before she could think.

“Then who are you? Shall I fetch the guards to deal with you?”

“I, uh, am the entertainment,” She rushed out, very aware of the fact she smelled like pure booze.

“You’re a bard?” The woman said flatly before laughing lightly. “I suppose anything is possible.”

“Yes, I just stayed out late working the tavern,” Maggie explained quickly, smoothing her hair flat. “I’m getting ready to perform. I was, uh, grounding myself..?”

“Of course, my dear,” She crooned in an accent that wasn’t quite Orlesian. “Now come on. I’m sure the rest of the guests are dying to witness your musical prowess.”

Before Maggie could protest, the woman placed a firm, guiding hand on her arm, pushing her towards the double doors. She stepped into the parlor on the clean tile floor. There were about 30 Orlesian, dressed in finery, milling around the room. The parlor had grand white floors with sliver flowers vines twisting through it. Grand marble columns ran up the side of the room, making the twenty-foot ceiling look even taller. A buffet of food and drinks ran along one wall and an array of expensive-looking furniture was set strategically throughout. In one corner, there was a small, elevated area that housed a few instruments, but there wasn’t a player.

The woman strode forward, dragging Maggie along with her. “Oh, Comtesse?” She called as they walked. “I found your bard in the garden. I simply cannot wait to hear her perform.”

Maggie risked a glare at the taller woman as they approached the Comtesse. She was perched on a chair while surrounded by guests. They all looked questioning at Maggie. She was sure there was dirt smeared across her face.

“My bard?” The Comtesse asked, amusement in her voice. “She looks more like a gardener.”

“That would make sense,” the woman responded, her voice becoming less friendly and her hand becoming a vice on Maggie’s arm. “Since I found her hiding behind a bush.”

A low murmur broke among the gathered nobles. The Comtesse visibly tensed. Maggie wasn’t up to date on Orlesian etiquette, but it was probably bad form to have break-in during a party. “Thank you, Lady Vivienne. I will have the city guards arrest her,” The Comtesse declared, standing up.

“Wait!” Maggie shouted, throwing up her free hand, “I admit that I am not a bard.” She knew the implications behind the word ‘bard’ in Orlais and was trying to avoid that association. The guests looked at her, confused. “But I am supposed to be a performer at this party. And I can prove it.”

“How?” The Comtesse asked, “This is my party. I think I would remember if I hired you.”

Maggie pulled her arm away from Vivienne and gestured to the small stage. “I will play for you and your guests. And you will realize that without my music, a party is not worth having.”

The guests immediately began whispering and giggling among themselves. Maggie stared down the Comtesse, daring her. “Very well,” The Comtesse said finally, “Impress me.”

Feeling all the eyes of the room on her, Maggie straightened her clothes and walked over to the instruments. She had to play something that they had never heard before. Something from the world with no magic. She stepped on the stage, eyeing the piano. It would be the best choice as she works as an accompanist as a part-time job. The other instruments, such as the lute, she had not picked up for twelve years. Of course, she didn’t have sheet music so she would have to play a song she knew by heart.

Sitting on the bench, her back instinctively straightened and her fingers curled over the keys. Maggie glanced at the audience, seeing the room staring back. She was not afraid. This was the first moment since she arrived in Thedas that she felt like she knew what to do.

Her fingers began moving before she realized what she was playing. It was a song from a French musical that she learned recently. She played the opening a second time to be sure had the key. It was a fast-paced, joyful—almost triumphant song. Maggie parted her lips and let her voice fill the room.

“_They say times are hard for dreamers_

_ But they won't be hard for me_

_ I've saved up everything I know.”_

She could actually feel the aura in the room change as they listened to her sing and play. The Orlesian stilled, enraptured by her song. Maggie found herself sinking into the music and forgetting about her body as she continued through to the next verse.

“_And I might be a dreamer_

_ But it's gotten me this far_

_ And that is far enough for me.”_

Maggie had no control over her fingers anymore. They lightly pressed the keys without any guidance from her. She sang into the last part of the song, savoring the feeling.

“_It isn't where I am, it's only where I go from here_

_ That matters now, And I am not afraid!_

_ As everything I'll ever need appears_

_ This is how my world gets made._”

Holding the last note out, she finished the song, her fingers returning to her own power. The parlor was silence for a second before the guests burst into applause. Maggie stood from the bench, eyeing the Comtesse who was smiling and clapping as well.

Maggie stooped into a low bow, coming back up quickly. _Oh no…too quickly! _The bile rose in her throat from last night’s binge drinking. The shock of utter horror entered her body as she realized she couldn’t hold it back.

Vomit projectiled from her mouth, smelling of cheap booze. The Orlesians screamed and shouted, scrambling back in surprise as Maggie wiped her mouth. They stared back at her in disgust.

“Oh, whatever,” Maggie grumbled, pulling the Jar of Bees from her belt. She chucked the bottle in the air. It spun several times before crashing into the ground and breaking open.

More screaming filled the air as Maggie opened the nearest window and jumped out. There had been guards in the area earlier, but now they rushed into the parlor, leaving her escape open. She trotted down the path as fast as she dared to go. She turned the corner around the manor and Sera stood there, a blank look on her face.

Before Maggie could say anything, Sera fell over on the ground, holding her stomach as tears of laughter fell down her face. “I can’t…I can’t believe that just happened!” Sera gasped in between laughs. “You had the prats eating out of your hand and then you puked on them!”

Covering her face with her hands, Maggie snorted despite herself. “Come on! We gotta get out of here!”

Putting Sera to her feet, the two of them giggled as they ran and climbed over the metal fence that surrounded the manor. Carefully, they peeked their heads out and hurried on to the streets of the city. Forcing themselves to walk slowly to not attract attention, they headed towards a group of pedestrians.

“This way,” Sera murmured, pulling Maggie down an empty alleyway.

They turned a corner to go back on to the streets and suddenly ran into an iron figure. It was Lady Vivienne. She had removed her headdress and mask, but it was unmistakably her.

Maggie’s mouth dropped open and she backed up several steps. Vivienne raised a hand in peace. “I am not following you two because of that unfortunate display if that’s what you are wondering,” She said lightly and stepped in the cover of the alley.

“What do you want?” Sera seethed, crossing her arm indignantly.

Vivienne looked at Maggie. “I would like to speak to the Herald of Andraste.”

Sera snorted. “The what?’

“I am not the Herald of Andraste,” Maggie snapped, “And how do you know who I am?”

“I didn’t say believed you were,” Vivienne responded evenly. “But that is what people are calling you. Did you know your fellows at the Inquisition are in the city? They know you’re here.”

Maggie examined the woman in front of her. “What do you want?”

“I have a proposal for you,” Vivienne answered, “Come back to my manor and I will explain. Even if you have no intentions of entertaining my offer, at least let me give you proper clothing. I imagine you’re been wearing the same outfit since you escaped from that clerk.”

The last line caught Maggie’s attention. She didn’t want to go with the woman, but she was also curious as to how she was getting her information and what else she knew about the Inquisition’s whereabouts, “Fine, I’ll come with you.”

“I’m coming too!” Sera demanded, stepping to Maggie’s side, “We’re, uh, family! Sisters! Practically twins!”

Maggie stifled a giggle. The two women couldn’t look more different, but she was grateful that Sera was sticking with her. Vivienne gave them a charming yet very fake smile. “Of course. My carriage at down this street. I hope your stomach is empty now, Herald.”

As they followed Vivienne to the carriage, Sera leaned in close to Maggie’s ear. “I don’t know what’s going on with this prick, but I just want to make sure you know that…” She stage-whispered and grinned wickedly, “I won the drinking contest."

___

_Dear Josephine,_

_We have not seen the Herald, but there are wild rumors running rampant about her all over the city. I'm sure that you have heard some of them. Is there anything you can do to stop some of these from spreading any farther?_

_I received an invitation from Madame de Fer. She has invited us to an intimate dinner at her manor. She claims to have information on the whereabouts of the Herald and she does not wish to entrust it to a messenger. I do not know what she expects from us in exchange. Hopefully, the information she has will be worth it. I will send an update after the meeting._

_\---Cassandra_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maggie is such a mess and I love her so much for it. 
> 
> The song is from Amelie and I thought it was appropriate for an Orlesian party since the musical is based in France. Here is a link to the song if you want to check it out.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwTIYSvxJwA
> 
> Let me know if you liked it!


	3. Come Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie decides to return to Haven.

Maggie leaned against the table in the war room, her palms digging into the edge of the wood. Her mark seemed to sense that she was close to the breach again. She kept her eyes lowered, refusing to look up at Cassandra or Leliana.

After Cassandra came to Vivienne’s estate, Maggie agreed to accompany her back to Haven but had no promised much more than that. Haven’s citizens were excited to see her back. Apparently, the official rumor was that Maggie had some personal errands to take care of before joining the Inquisition.

It was true, in a sense. Maggie had to see for herself that she no longer knew how to traverse the land of Thedas. In a short time span, she had lost her magic, gotten kidnapped, and made an enemy of fifty Orlesian nobles. She had to stop pretending she knew what she was doing. There was no way she would survive in Thedas and get back home without help.

On top of that, there were countless people suffering because of her decision to run off. She was the only one that could stop the breach and the rifts.

“Herald, we—”

“Please,” Maggie interrupted softly, glancing up at Leliana. “Don’t call me that. I’m not Andrastian. I don’t care what others who don’t know me think, but can we please operate under the assumption that I was not sent by Andraste.”

“Are you saying you are willing to work with us?” Cassandra asked, surprise lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve seen the rifts in the countryside,” Maggie answered. She wrapped her arms around herself remembering the demons. “But I’m not much of a fighter anymore and by the sight of those demons, that’s what you need. My magic is barely useful.”

“Why did you hide your magic from us?” Leliana questioned.

Maggie shrugged. “I didn’t hide it really. It was just gone when I woke up. Slowly, I’ve been able to feel a bit of it, but only when I drank that huge bottle of lyrium was I actually able to do something. And that only lasted a few minutes.”

“Were you a rebel mage?” Leliana asked bluntly. Her fingers trailed down a stack of paper sitting on the table. “We have not found your name among the attendees of the conclave.”

Maggie had carefully prepared a non-committal answer to this question on the ride back to Haven. “Uh, no. I’ve been an apostate my entire life. I’ve worked as a bard and a mercenary to get by. As I said before, I don’t really know how I ended up at the conclave. My memory is fuzzy.”

It technically wasn’t a lie. Maggie still had no idea how the mirror started working and she didn’t remember what happened in-between it activating and materializing on top of the mountain.

“What about your family?” Leliana continued. Maggie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was expecting an interrogation at some point, but she still didn’t like it.

“Dead.”

“Dead?”

“To me, at least.”

The apologetic look that began to grow on Cassandra and Leliana’s faces was quickly replaced by a look of annoyance. “This is serious!” Cassandra protested, scowling at her.

“Look, I haven’t seen or heard from them in ten years,” Maggie explained, shrugged away their concerns. “They probably _are _dead considering what this past decade has been like.”

“By coming into the position as the figurehead of our organization, you will be under a certain level of scrutiny. If something comes out about you, we need to be prepared to counter it,” Leliana said, matter of fact. She fixed Maggie with a firm look.

“So you’re asking me all the questions because you can’t figure out who I am, right?” Maggie spoke calmly. She picked up a figure on the table and rolled it around in her hands. “After all your digging, you still have no idea what my past is. Hell, you don’t even know what my last name is.”

_Maggie, what you doing?! Don’t antagonize the SCARY red-headed lady! _

She willed her face to be iron, but Leliana’s eyes were daggers in her soul. She concentrated on the figure in her hand and breathed deeply, relaxing her stance before speaking, “I don’t have a last name. I’m a bastard though I did live with my father for several years until he and my sisters abandoned me. I never knew my mother. Would you like to know anything else deeply personal about me? Perhaps we could chat about my first period?”

_ANDRASTE’S BLEEDING TITS. Maggie, could you stop being an asshole to the people you need to protect your life?_

The voices in her head screamed at her, but to her surprise, Leliana smiled softly at her. “That’s all for now. But…if you’d like, I could find your family. You wouldn’t have to contact them, but you would know where they are. Know if they are alive.”

Maggie’s entire body stiffened at Leliana’s offer. “No, no no, no. That’s really a terrible idea,” She rushed, raising a hand and scratching her neck nervously. “Honestly, I’m good. My family, psht, they’re..they’re too much. They’re not even really family anymore. It’s complicated. Really. You don’t want to dig into all that, babes. It’s too much. Did I just call you babes? Sorry about that. I just sputter utter nonsense when it comes to that mess…like I am now.”

The two women blinked at her, both sporting confused smiles. “I’d like you to accompany me to the Hinterlands tomorrow, Magdalene. There’s a chantry sister asking to meet you and the refugees would surely benefit from your presence. We also are working on locating all the rifts in the area so that we can close them,” Cassandra said, pointing at the spot on the maps.

“Right, okay,” Maggie responded, pretending not to be entirely overwhelmed by the task. “One problem. Generally, chantry sisters don’t like me. Between being both a bastard and apostate.”

Leliana laughed, “Don’t worry. Mother Giselle is a special sort. You’ll probably like her.”

“I’ll take you down to the blacksmith to get you situated with armor and weapons,” Cassandra offered, gesturing towards the door.

They walked out the door, after a quick goodbye to Leliana. They only took a few steps through the chantry with a firm voice called out to them. Maggie turned to see Josephine exiting her office. She had only exchanged a brief introduction with her when she arrived at Haven earlier in the day.

“Did everything go well?” Josephine inquired. She carried a clipboard and quill, hand poised to jot down notes.

“Yes, the Hera—er, Magdalene has agreed to join the Inquisition,” Cassandra replied. The two of them continued to talk, namedropping people Maggie didn’t know and speaking of events she didn’t care about.

Maggie stared down the hallway, at the door to the dungeon. The woman who stood beside her as a colleague had locked her down there not long ago. She shook the thoughts from her head almost instantly. She couldn’t dwell on that.

“Miss Magdalene?” Josephine called her attention back. “I just had a quick question for you.”

“Yes, what is it?” She responded.

“Is it true that you regurgitated on stage in front of numerous Orlesian nobles and Comtesse Bisset?”

Maggie pressed her lips together and opened her mouth slowly. “Not that I recall…but, uh, I suppose anything possible.” A look of horror spread across Josephine’s face. Before she could say anything, Maggie turned on her heel and hurried away. “Come on, Cassandra. We need to head to the blacksmith.”

They passed Vivienne who waved as they exited the chantry. The cold immediately chilled Maggie’s body and she tucked her arms around herself, trying to conserve heat. People’s eyes followed her as they walked through the village. She dipped her head, watching the ground as she hurried along. It was unnerving the way they looked at her. As if she was something holy.

As they were about to walk through the gates, an arm wrapped around her. Immediately, Maggie jumped away from them. “Jeez, it’s just me!”

“Sera?” Maggie laughed after realizing who it was. “You came!”

Sera grinned at her. It looked like she had just arrived in Haven, wearing full knapsack and heavy traveling clothes. “’Course I did! I said I would meet you here! Didja not believe me?”

“Maybe not,” Maggie admitted, “But I am glad you’re here.”

“I hear there’s a tavern around. Wanna go check it out?” Sera asked, pointing down the path.

Cassandra made a noise and Maggie smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta take care of some things first. Meet you there later?”

Sera winked. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

After saying goodbye to Sera, they finally made it to the blacksmith. Harritt had a variety of armor to choose from. At first, Cassandra insisted she look at the mage’s robes, but Maggie loathed those. They boosted magical power, but they made her feel like she had a target on her back. Instead, she chose simple leather armor that would allow her to move around easily.

Harritt made a few quick adjustments to the armor and it fit her perfectly. She liked the blacksmith; he didn’t look at her like all the others. He just treated her normal.

“We don’t have many tools for mages,” Harritt mused, pulling out a few bare staffs. “But one of these will work for now. Maybe you can head up to Redcliffe while you’re in the Hinterlands and trade with the mages.”

Maggie trailed a hand around the rough of the nearest staff. It was plain but had a small gem topper. Usually, staffs would light up at the sense of magic, but this one did nothing. Maggie quickly retracted her hand and turned away. If Harritt noticed, he said nothing.

“I would rather look at your knives and maybe a bow?” Maggie said, kneading her hands together.

Harritt guided her other to the other weapons without comment, “Here you are. If you don’t like any of these then I can work on something for when you get back.”

She sorted through the knives, ignoring the daggers. A few were too large for her hands and a couple of others seemed too small. Finally, she picked a small throwing knife with a hilt and a slightly bigger hunting knife. She tucked them inside a leather scabbard that hung from her belt.

“You’re going to fight demons with those?” Cassandra asked dryly.

“No, you’re going to do all the work while I watch,” Maggie replied as she bent down to look through the bows.

Harritt laughed out loud at her remark. “Seeker, you’re going to have to be quick to keep up with this one.”

He ducked down, pointing out the weights of the bows. In the end, Maggie picked out three bows of varying sizes. “I’m not sure what draw weight I can handle. Do you mind if I test these out?”

“Be my guest,” Harritt replied, gesturing out towards the field. There were several targets set up for the army to practice on, but for now, they were empty.

Harritt supplied her with a quiver of arrows and an arm bracer. She and Cassandra walked out to the field.

“You know how to shoot a bow, right?” Cassandra questioned as Maggie struggled to string the first bow.

“Yes? Probably.” Maggie finally got the bow ready and shook out her muscles.

“What do you mean probably?” She asked suspiciously.

“I used to be quite the markswoman,” Maggie said, pulling an arrow from the quiver. “_Used to _being the keywords here.”

“Maker, why don’t you just use a staff then?” Cassandra swore.

Maggie ignored her. This bow had the heaviest draw weight for a hunting bow. She nocked the arrow on the string and pulled back. Her muscles groaned in protest, but she managed to get a full draw. The target was a mere fifteen yards away. Breathing deeply, she let the arrow go.

“That was better than I expected,” Cassandra commented. The arrow rounded the edge of the bullseye. It didn’t mean much as it was a stationary target in a controlled environment, but at least, she remembered how to shoot a bow.

Maggie unstrung the bow and picked up the next one. “I thought that one would be too heavy. I struggled to get a full draw. This should be closer to what I’m looking for.”

As she strung the next bow, she heard soft footsteps approaching. She turned to look.

“Cullen!” She blurted before stammering over her next words. “Sorry, I mean Commander?”

The last time she saw him was when she left Haven. He waved a hand at her, smiling bashfully at her. “Commander is fine.”

Maggie stared at the scar on his upper lip, becoming distracted for a moment. Her mouth moved before her brain. “Commander, huh? You weren’t this formal when you thought I was a lady of the night.”

_DAMNIT, MAGDALENE_._ Keep your trap shut!_

He blushed immediately and dipped his head. “I—well, I wanted to apologize about—”

“Don’t listen to her,” Cassandra interrupted. “She’s just teasing you.”

Maggie forced her attention away from his scar and strung the bow. Nocking an arrow, she pulled back focusing. This bow felt strong in her hands. She could feel the perfect tension of the draw in her mouth. A second later, the arrow thudded into the bullseye.

“Not bad,” Cullen commented. Her heart swelled and then she cursed at herself for getting excited over such minimal praise. “But I’m confused. Leliana told that you are a mage. Why are you practicing archery?”

“I was wondering the same question,” Cassandra added in.

She picked up another arrow and twirled like a baton. “If you must know…my magic is being rather finicky at the moment.”

“Finicky?” Cassandra questioned.

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you don’t have control over your magic?” He hissed, involuntarily taking a step back.

Maggie stared at the extra space between them. The arrow slipped from her fingers and she sighed. “I have perfect control over my magic. I just can’t do much more than light a candle without throwing back a bottle of lyrium,” She said softly. “But thank you for reminding me of your templar nature, chantry boy.”

Without looking at him, she retrieved her equipment and walked back over to Harritt. Gods, it had been a long time since she had to deal with this mage templar thing, but she had not forgotten how much distrust lies in their glances.

“Are you alright?”

Harritt’s question cause Maggie to freeze. She quickly composed her face. “Yes, thank you for asking. I’m fine.” She must have looked an angry mess for him to ask.

He gave her a half-smile. “How did the bows fare?”

“This one should work great. Thank you, Harritt.” She assured him.

__________________ 

Cullen rarely saw Josephine upset. She never complained at the conditions of Haven. She doesn’t so much as grimace at the subpar food they have for dinner. She didn’t even say a word about the cold weather.

But there’s was something about Magdalene that worked her into a tizzy.

“I don’t understand how this was even possible,” Josephine moaned, holding letters from Orlesian nobles in her hand. “How did she even end up at the Comtesse’s manor?”

Leliana did her best to hold back a smile. “It’s okay, Josie! We’ll recover. She wasn’t aware she was representing us then; I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior now. The Herald may be a tad wild, but she is very strategic.”

“I agree,” Cassandra assented, placing a hand on the war table. “She tries to hide behind crude jokes, but she possesses a certain amount of wisdom.”

He was surprised to see them defending her. Cullen knew that the Inquisition needed her to close the breach once and for all, but she didn’t come across very reliable to him. She was charming, but that could only go so far. Josephine seemed to affirm his thoughts, so it was strange that Leliana and Cassandra appeared to like her.

Cullen looked around the war room, interrupting their discussion. “Isn’t she supposed to be here?”

The women stilled. “She should be here by now, you’re right. I wonder where she is?” Leliana questioned.

“She wasn’t in the training fields when I walked up,” Cullen answered.

Cassandra groaned. “I might need to retract my previous statement. I think I know where she is.”

A worried look crossed Josephine’s face. “Oh no. Where?”

“When we went to the smith’s, an elven woman stopped her, and they talked about going to the tavern later. I had completely forgotten.” Cassandra confessed, “I told her about this meeting, but I never believed she would skip it.”

“An elven woman?” Josephine gasped, “Like the one who was at the Comtesse’s manor with her? I’m going to fetch her now!”

Josephine marched around the table, but Cullen hurried into her path. “Lady Montilyet, please. If she is drinking then, it’s very unlikely you’ll be able to get her to leave.”

“Then you go get her!” Josephine answered, fixing her clothes.

“I can’t! She hates me,” Cullen insisted.

Cassandra snorted, “Which was your fault, by the way.”

“Enough,” Leliana called. She wasn’t upset but amused by their bickering. “Cullen, go retrieve Magdalene. She will come if you ask nicely.”

Cullen held his hands up. “I don’t think she’ll listen to me. Not after today.” He felt a tinge of guilt about how he reacted to Maggie earlier, but he had a responsibility to keep Haven and its inhabitants safe. When it came to problems of magic, he always erred on the side of caution. Mages who couldn’t could their magic was dangerous.

“Perhaps this would be a good time to make amends?” Leliana offered, gesturing toward the door. The woman’s face was unreadable. “You are going to be working together rather closely.”

He didn’t know what she was up to but relented anyways. “Fine, but if she’s drunk, I’m leaving her there.”

“Good luck, Commander,” Leliana hummed as he exited the room.

It was snowing lightly outside. The flakes fell from the sky, shining off the fires dotting around the village. Soldiers saluted Cullen as he walked down the path. There was something odd about the night, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He listened to the night air and realized why it felt strange: it was silent.

There were people standing all around the outside of the tavern. They were looking through windows and standing in the doorway, all enraptured by whatever was taking place inside. Cullen tapped on the shoulder of an Elven man with long white hair plaited into a braid who was standing in front of an open window.

“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked, unable to get through the crowd.

The Elven man glanced at him as if studying Cullen. He stepped away from the window. “She’s about to start again.”

Before Cullen could ask anything else, the man walked off, leaving his spot open. Cullen moved forward, looking through the window. The entire tavern was filled. There were people sitting on top of each other and people lining walls, all of them transfixed on one being.

Magdalene sat on top of the bar with her legs tucked underneath each other. In her hands was a lute. The tavern’s bard stood beside her, quietly speaking to Magdalene while gesturing towards the instrument. A blonde, elven woman with a mug in her hands was sitting beside her on the bar. A slow murmur rose through the crowd as Magdalene played a few quick notes.

“Okay, I think I have this song figured out,” Maggie announced loudly to the gathered crowd. What little conversation was happening instantly stopped at her voice. “Please bear with me, it’s been a while since I played the lute.”

Nearly a hundred eyes watched as she plucked the stings of the experimentally before settling into a soft rhythm. The entire room drew in a breath and held it as she opened her mouth to sing.

“_Come again, sweet love doth now invite, _

_thy graces that refrain to do me due delight._

_To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die_

_ with thee again in sweetest sympathy_,”

Her voice slipped into the air as gentle as a breeze. It was clear and confident but still sounded almost shy, like she actually a young maiden professing her love. Her face held the essence of innocence and pushed that feeling into the song as her fingers moved across the strings.

“_Come again, that I may cease to mourn_

_ through thy unkind disdain for now left and forlorn._

_ I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die,_

_ in deadly pain and endless misery_,”

The crowd had not come just because they believed she was the Herald of Andraste. They were there because her voice sounded like a gift straight from the Maker. Her talent was far beyond anything Cullen had ever witnessed. What amazed him the most was how easy every word sounded. She didn’t struggle to hit a note. It was as natural as water flowing down a mountain.

The last notes drifted into the silence. For a few seconds, the audience members were still. As if they were trying to soak up every sound of the song they could. Magdalene declined her head to her onlookers in a small bow.

The tavern exploded into cheers. Cullen found himself swept into the applause, clapping along with them. Magdalene beamed at the audience, her face carefree and kind as they shouted out to her.

Beside Cullen, he heard a man whispered to his friend, “How could you hear that and not believe that she’s divine?”

The trip to the Hinterlands was a success. Mother Giselle was going to join them at Haven and help advise on way to make connections with the Chantry. Maggie closed all the rifts they could find in the area and helped find supplies for the refugees in the area. The only problem they had no solved was the issue of the Templar and Mage base of operations.

Maggie, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric fought alongside the Inquisition forces in the area, helping to drive back the hordes of fighting. It went well at first; they even found information about the two faction’s hideouts. Maggie wasn’t used to fighting so she kept back with Varric, covering the others with her bow. Unfortunately, a Templar warrior flanked them, and Maggie challenged him. It didn’t go great.

They made it back to Haven and Cassandra immediately called a meeting, infuriated by Maggie’s actions on the battlefield.

“She is ill-trained and reckless!” Cassandra complained, standing at the head of the table. “We can’t allow her out of Haven again until she learns how to fight!”

Maggie was annoyed but too tired to say anything in her own defense. She curled up in a padded chair someone pulled out for her. The wounds on her side and arm were healed by Solas, but they were still sore, and she had lost some amount of blood.

“What exactly happened?” The commander asked. Maggie glanced up at him, feeling amused. She could hear the curiosity in his voice. He must have felt her eyes because he looked her, the gentle hint of a smile on his face.

“A warrior flanked our squad and instead of falling back or calling for help, she tried to fight him with those two little knives on her belt!” Cassandra explained, her voice getting angrier as she dwelt on the story.

The corner of Leliana’s mouth twitched as she turned to Maggie. “You tried to fight a warrior with a knife.”

“Technically, it was two knives,” Maggie answered, adjusting her in the chair.

“That makes it better how?” Josephine interjected as she scribbled on her clipboard.

“It’s the double knife defense,” Cullen said off-handedly, causing all the women in the room to look at him. Maggie raised her eyebrows at him.

“Excuse me?” Cassandra questioned, staring at him expectantly.

Cullen cleared his throat nervously. “If I am correct, Magdalene was trying to execute a double knife defense. It’s not a very popular technique, but I’ve seen archers and, uh, mages utilize it if they get backed into a corner.”

“Magdalene?” Leliana asked, “Is that what you were trying to do.”

Maggie picked at her shirt. “Well, yeah. I was trying. I used to be good at it, but I guess it’s been a while. I agree that I need to train more before throwing myself into situations like that.”

Leliana nodded, leaning over the table to write. “Commander, since your familiar with the style, can you take some time to work with Magdalene after she heals?”

Maggie willed her face to be neutral as Cullen answered, “Yes, I believe I can block off an hour or two in the mornings if Magdalene is willing to work with me.”

The statement seemed so harmless, but Maggie replied carefully, “I would appreciate the extra training.”

“She still needs more than that!” Cassandra said, crossing her arms. “Magdalene has little combat sense and frequently makes bad decisions during a fight. I can’t watch her and fight at the same time!”

“Then what about finding her a bodyguard?” Cullen suggested, trying to calm Cassandra’s ire.

“No thanks,” Maggie stated quickly. “I don’t need someone following me around.”

Cullen nodded. “I understand what you’re saying, but it would just be for when you go out into dangerous zones. I’m sure we can find someone you’ll be agreeable with.”

Maggie snorted, “I doubt that.”

The idea of someone being paid to dedicate their life to her safety felt sour. She didn’t want someone to take hits for her.

“No, I like the idea,” Cassandra said, “Josephine, do you think you can make a list of suitable choices?”

“Right away,” Josephine replied, smiling. “I already have some ideas in mind.”

“Do I not get a say in this?” Maggie snapped. The others looked at her but said nothing. She pushed up from her chair and opened the door. “I don’t even know why I attend these meetings. You all never listen to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you like this chapter. Here is a link to the song she sings in the tavern: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsoVD1tfjhk
> 
> I think it's about time that Magdalene makes some more friends in the Inquisition!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is something I've been thinking to write for a while. It more of a fun work than anything else. Also, I edited this by myself at 3 am so bear with me haha
> 
> Let me know if you enjoy it by hitting that Kudos button or leaving me a comment! 
> 
> Thanks!!!


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